


hot temptations, sweet sensations

by closerverse by (wonthetrade)



Series: Come on Closer [4]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, F/M, Rule 63, Size Kink, Smut, World Cup of Hockey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-17 07:18:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9311234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonthetrade/pseuds/closerverse%20by
Summary: The truth is, she’s been into him from day one of camp. Him and that goofy grin and his teddy bear personality.Basically, she’ll go nuts if she doesn’t jump him before the end of the tournament.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Did you read this on Tumblr? We promise you're not going crazy.

“They want you over at the shop first,” the NHL lady begins.

Josie lets out a crow of excitement and makes a beeline towards it, tugging Mo along behind her. “Oh hell yes, show me all the merch. Are there t-shirts with my name on them? Please tell me there are. For my family, obviously,” she says when he opens his mouth, no doubt to chirp her.

“Obviously,” he drawls good-naturedly, and she has to turn her face away to hide her smile. Out of all the friendships she’s made with her teammates, this is the most unexpected.

Well. Maybe not, given that sweet and stacked is exactly her type, and Mo has those attributes in spades. She’s found herself looking in the locker room more than once, lingering on the breadth of his shoulders and the solidity of his chest. From there it really doesn’t take long for her fantasies to jump in, imagining just how easy it would be for him to lift her up and press her into the wall, his breath hot on her neck as his fingers slip-

“-you okay?” The man in question is waving a hand in her face, concerned. “You look a little flushed, you need some water?”

 _So not the time or place to be doing this, Josephine_ , she tells herself, her nose crinkling reflexively at the sound of her full name, even in her head. “Sorry, just spaced out!” To cover it, she races over towards the jerseys and grabs one of Connie’s. “I think I’ll change numbers, what do you think?”

“What size is that, small?” Mo chuckles, coming over with the camera crew. “Extra small for Josie, here.” His hands are gentle as they help her tug the jersey down, the heat seeping through her thin t-shirt and all she can think about are his hands on her bare skin and just how big they’d be, spanning her waist.

It’s hilarious when he puts on Jack’s jersey. Connie’s undoubtedly going to kill them both later, but it’s totally worth it.

The thing is, the feelings don’t go away the longer they stay in the village. There’s an edge of competition in the way they interact, despite all the silly, light-hearted chirping. During the ET interview she can’t help but touch him, giddy with their rapport and more than a little turned on by the feel of his muscles beneath her hands.

Facing off across from him in bubble hockey, it’s so clear just how big he is compared to her. That’s not exactly new - she’s played against bigger guys before but she’s never considered them the same way she’s considering Mo.

More than considering, actually, Josie thinks as she brushes up behind him on the pretext of back-checking. The truth is, she’s been into him from day one of camp. Him and that goofy grin and his teddy bear personality. He still has a tendency to pull his hits on her in practice, but she’s curing him of that particular failing.

Basically, she’ll go nuts if she doesn’t jump him before the end of the tournament. She never feels small on the ice but she likes the feeling in bed, of being surrounded and so _filled_ that she’ll have trouble walking the next day.

She’s pretty sure she’ll get exactly that with Mo.

The possibilities and fantasies coalesce into a humming beneath her skin she cannot shake off. Unfortunately for her teammates, that puts her in pest mode. Connie is amused for a little bit and Jack plays along, but Mo is the only one who really seems to tolerate it. Which is both a blessing and a curse, since he’s the whole reason for it in the first place.

“Seriously. Why are you wearing blue pants?” she asks as they line up for the opening ceremony. “It’s an awful choice.”

He snorts. “I have been reliably informed that navy blue is a neutral color, thank you very much.”

Josie makes a face. Navy blue pants with their black and grey team polos just seems off. “Not in this case,” she mutters, reaching out to tug at one of his belt loops. She wants to untuck his shirt and just _touch_ -

His fingers close around hers, making her jerk in surprise. “Sorry, Josie. Are you okay? You’ve been…jittery.” His eyes are so very blue and concerned as he peers down at her. “Are you nervous? Because-”

Why can’t there be any dark corners to drag him into? Josie despairs. But no one’s paying any attention to them, so she angles them both so that his bulk shields her from view. “I’m not nervous, Mo. I’ve just been on edge all day.” Her hand comes up to rest on his chest, her nails digging into the fabric to punctuate her point. “You gonna help me take the edge off later?”

Even through all the noise, his sharp intake of breath is audible. “What-you-really?” he stammers, crowding into her like he just can’t help himself and that’s all the confirmation she needs, really.

“Really,” she confirms with a predatory grin. “I’ll be by your room later, so you’d better kick Eks out.” The line is moving, so she ducks under his arm to catch up with Dylan. “Later!” she calls over her shoulder, still grinning at the dazed expression on his face.

Jo takes one look at her when they get back to the hotel and sighs. She complains about having a front row seat to Josie’s Mo fixation, but she’s one to talk, given her absolutely not platonic relationship with Nate. “At least try to get some sleep tonight, all right?” she asks, toothbrush hanging out of her mouth.

“Why?” Josie blinks innocently. “We don’t play until Sunday.”

“Ugh.” But Jo’s smiling. “Just go, will you? Leave me in peace.”

“Maybe you should invite Mac Daddy, have a sleepover of your own.” Josie ducks out the door, narrowly avoiding the kick to her backside.

Some of her confidence fades in the walk from her room to his and she hesitates, her hand hovering over the door. No. Go big or go home, and she knows she’s going to regret not even trying.

The door swings open almost as soon as she knocks, like he’s been waiting for her. “I wasn’t sure if you were joking,” Mo blurts out as she steps past him, kicking off her shoes.

“Does it look like I’m joking?” she asks, whipping her hoodie off and tossing it to the side. This could be good - _they_ could be good. They could be fucking amazing, actually. “So. I want to be here. The question is, do you? Because if you don’t, that’s fine-”

“No!” He flushes a little bit and steps closer, his fingers flexing like it’s costing him everything he has not to reach out and _take_. “Jesus, Josie. I’d have to be stupid. You’re…you’re so fucking good at hockey, and you’re gorgeous, and-” And now he’s shy again, which just about destroys her. “I really like you. I just didn’t think-”

“Babe.” Josie can hear the smile in her voice. “Why don’t you get over here and I’ll prove just how wrong you are.”

Mo runs a hand through his hair, smiling bashfully and full-on laughing when she crooks a finger. They’re both smiling into that first kiss, light and happy, but it doesn’t last long, not when Josie gets that first feeling of his body against hers. She inhales and backs up, taking him with her until he’s crowding her against the wall. It doesn’t take him long to get with the program, those big hands sliding around to cup her ass and boost her up. The movement is so effortless and she lets out a breathless moan, trailing wet kisses along his jaw until she can set her teeth on his earlobe. “I’ve been thinking,” she whispers into his ear. “About this. You getting me up against the wall, your fingers inside me.”

He jerks against her, pressing her fully into the wall and she loves it. “That’s what you want?” he asks, his voice going deep, almost a growl.

“What do you think?” It’s something of a struggle, kicking off her panties and sweatpants when she wants to keep every inch of him against her, but she manages. She guides his hand to where she’s already dripping, eyes bright with challenge. “Show me what you got.”

Mo doesn’t even hesitate - she should have known that appealing to his sense of competition would get him going. His thumb presses down in slow circles over her clit, and the first finger that slips inside her is so large and thick. “Like that?” he murmurs, sucking a bruise onto the curve of neck and shoulder.

“More,” she demands, wrapping her legs around his hips and grinding down to get the friction she wants. “We’re going to need at least three fingers if I’m going to ride this monster.” Her hand snakes down his chest to palm his cock through his shorts, squeezing lightly. Her fantasies have definitely not disappointed her.

He swears a blue streak. “You’re killing me, Josie.” A second finger joins the first and her head lands with a thump against the wall at the stretch. With his other hand he tugs at her shirt, pulling it over her head and throwing it off to the side.

Josie laughs breathlessly, her breath hitching when he leans down to tug her bra down and suck a nipple into his mouth. “Not allowed. Not until you fuck me.” She’s chasing the edge of that first orgasm now, her hips moving in tiny circles, mimicking the movements of his thumb. “Come on, one more.”

When he raises his head to meet her gaze, it’s with eyes that have gone dark and focused. A beat later, she’s groaning and opening up around three of his large fingers. “Like this?” And now he’s just being a shit, because he knows exactly what he’s doing. She swoops down to take his mouth, nipping at his lips with her teeth and soothing at the marks with her tongue. Her movements against his fingers are a little desperate now, pleasure edging that slightest bit into pain.

When she finally does come, it’s with a shudder and a bitten-off scream. Mo’s fingers slide out of her with an obscene sound and, holding her eyes, he licks the slick off his fingers, one at a time. “You taste good.”

Well, _hell_. “Clothes off,” she croaks, balancing on decidedly unsteady knees. He grins at her and reaches behind him to pull his shirt off in that one-handed way that guys do and is stupidly hot. Definitely stacked, she thinks with satisfaction, tilting her head to the side and admiring every inch of densely packed muscle.

His shorts hit the floor, followed closely by his boxers and no, she’s definitely not disappointed. He’s perfectly proportioned, and so thick her mouth waters at the sight. “I’ll blow you at some point,” she says conversationally, slipping her bra off. “But not tonight.”

“Jesus, Josie,” Mo begins, reaching for her. She stops him with a hand on his chest and laughs before lightly shoving him backwards.

“Not against the wall, either. On your back, Mo.”

He complies so easily, something that she files away for later because there are a lot of possibilities there. She fishes the condom and lube out of her hoodie and goes up to straddle him. Her fingers trace over the cut of his abs, grinning when she finds the tender spots that make him squirm.

“Please.” There’s heat in his gaze, tempered with a little desperation and soft affection. It sparks warmth in her that has nothing to do with how much she wants to get off. She wants to, of course, but this is also about the two of them. She leans forward, bracing her hands on his chest, and kisses him softly, sweetly. His hands are gentle as they come up to undo her braid, her hair falling in a messy curtain around them.

Her hands are achingly slow as she slides the condom down, gets them both ready. Even with her earlier orgasm, the stretch is a bit much as she slides on his cock, her teeth worrying her lip as she tilts her hips to take him in. There’s no doubt that she gets off on that bottomed-out kind of feeling, but it always takes a little bit of work.

Mo’s hands are on her hips now, his fingers biting into her skin so hard she’ll have bruises tomorrow. That bright blue gaze roams all over her body, like he doesn’t quite know where to look - her face, her breasts, the place where they’re joined. “Josie. Fuck, fuck.” But he’s so considerate, even here, even though he’s so tense she can see the strain in his body.

And god, does that make her feel powerful. Here’s a man who towers over her, outweighs her, could easily outmuscle her if he felt so inclined. But he’s waiting for her to call the shots.

Patience like that deserves a little reward. Her lips curve a little bit at the joke, and then she begins to move. His fingers spasm on her hips, slipping backwards to cup her ass as he presses deep, taking that as tacit permission to move with her. “You’re so-”

“Tight? Wet?” Josie grins at him, reaching down to touch herself as her hips continue that slow, dirty grind, watching with satisfaction he flushes red down his chest. This orgasm’s building quicker now, heat building inside her each time he fucks up into her.

His eyes slam shut, then fly open again. “I thought about this,” he murmurs. “Thought about you, with me. Like this.”

“Yeah? And?” Fuck, she’s breathless now, like she’s so full of him she can no longer breathe.

Again with that smile. “Reality’s better than fantasy.”

“God, get up here.” She reaches out for him, tugging him up so that she can get her hands in his hair, her lips slanting over his as she rides it out, coming apart in his arms.

He jerks beneath her, hips snapping up in short, hard strokes before following after her, arms so tight around her back.

They collapse back on the bed, sweaty and shivering, Josie draped over him like some kind of absurd blanket. One of Mo’s hands is in her hair, the other one absently patting her ass. She squirms on him a little bit, because even soft, he’s certainly not small and she’s feeling a little sensitive. “Shower, Mo,” she says, propping herself up on his chest.

“What, no afterglow?” His smile is completely lazy, eyelids at half-mast like he’s so blissed out he can’t be bothered to open his eyes properly. And hell, maybe he is, and she feels more than a little smug about that.

“We can cuddle afterwards. But right now, we’re gross.”

They take their time in the shower, soaping each other up and trading soft, lingering kisses until he’s hard again. He fingers her there as warm water cascades over them, holding her back against his chest and rutting against her, coming all over her ass and lower back.

Josie’s knees give up the ghost at that point, and Mo has to carry her back to bed. “No more shenanigans,” she mumbles somewhat regretfully, punching his shoulder as he lays her down. “Unless you want me to be useless tomorrow.”

“Can’t have that,” he agrees, eyes crinkling at the corners with affection. “That’s okay, I like this too.”

By virtue of her size, she usually ends up the small spoon. It’s never been like this before, though, this feeling of being surrounded without being suffocated, of complete security and contentment. She snuggles back against him, twining her fingers with his. “Good night, Mo.”

His lips press against her hair. “Good night, Josie.”

**Author's Note:**

> You know the drill by now! Come visit us on [tumblr](http://wonthetrade.tumblr.com)!


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